


World With No Together

by Grinner_H



Series: Fallen [2]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Angst, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:37:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4303407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grinner_H/pseuds/Grinner_H
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Maria.</p>
    </blockquote>





	World With No Together

**Author's Note:**

> For Maria.

This is the part you've always hated.

The tight cling of his lean limbs around you, constricting like a wetsuit. The scratch of his long, painted nails along the strong curve of your back, the red lines you _know_ you'd find in your reflection later.

You hate how it makes you recall - _unwanted_ \- another time, another place, another _face,_ but always the same _you;_ the sharp point of your combat blade carving crisscrosses into pale, pale skin. 

Somewhere deep inside, you've always loathed that moment - the way you currently loathe the sensation of _his_ body beneath yours, pressed so close, there's barely any space between you; barely any room to _breathe._

And you despise the heat of his breath against your cheek, the way his violet-tinged eyes read so much like a goddamn plea. 

_Want me._

This is the part you hate the most - knowing that it's never _you_ he's pleading for. 

\--

This might be something you could learn to love.

His face buried in the pillows, the spill of his hair everywhere like fresh ink from a bottle toppled over. 

_You_ buried in the tight, velvet heat of his ass. 

You love the way the mattress dents beneath his splayed knees, that wet spot on the sheets from the trails of precum dripping from the swollen head of his cock. 

You maybe definitely love the sweat that runs along the line of his flexible spine, his unmarred back. All this space between you but for your fingers bruising his hips, your cock pumping his ass. 

You like fucking him like this, 'cause _this_ is the way a man like him _should_ be fucked - all broken sounds and flushed skin and those goddamn expressive eyes screwed shut. 

This is something you may love best - your tongue and teeth learning the topography of his elegant back, the violent thrusts of your hips, the sight of your hard cock all the way inside him. 

And Liu Fei Long coming brilliantly undone, screaming senseless not-words into your pillow and a name you pretend it doesn't hurt to hear.

\--

This is what you understand better than anyone. 

The way he slides the silk of his changshan over his naked skin, the way he fastens buttons in utter silence. 

You know he still wears your teeth marks on his back, your spit and sweat and cum all over him, still _inside_ him. 

You get why he never lingers for a shower, why he never lets himself fall asleep in front of you. 

So you watch him dress and act like he isn't hurting, watch the way he turns the handle on your door like he couldn't get away any faster, like he doesn't even want to leave.

And - morbidly curious, though you know the answer anyway - you ask the one of many questions which would stall him, if only for a little while. "Why don't you ever do this with Mikhail?"

His gaze turns to look at you and you hate what you find in it. His quiet, fluid voice is heavy like a death sentence. "You _know_ why."

And this is what you understand above all - you fuck him because you _know_ he doesn't love you. 

\--

This is the moment that makes no sense. 

This maddening jealousy that burns like red lightning when you see _his_ kiss marks all over that boy's body. 

The irrational urge to just goddamn _hurt_ the kid for stealing _him_ away from you - though he was never _yours_ to begin with, he was always only _someone else's_ and god-fucking- _dammit,_ you've _always_ known that.

You resent getting caught in the middle of all this - just a pawn in an asinine game between three foolish men who'd risk everything they are in the name of unreturned love. 

But this is the moment that confounds you most - as the weight of lightless water overcomes you, you think about the salt of his skin and the soft thickness of his infernal hair, the way his eyes always looked sad and angry. And you wonder, if he watched you fall, if he would - even in the smallest way - _care._

And it makes you angry that it should matter. 

Because you've never - in this godforsaken life of yours - loved him at all.


End file.
